I’m the oldest of three kids. I’m a stereotypical oldest sibling–protective, lecturer, Mother Hen, organized, and a fixer. These traits can be a good thing, but then at times, they can be a burden on myself and others. I’m sure my siblings can attest to that. As kids, oldest children feel compelled to be the guardian over our brothers and sisters, but as we move into adulthood we find that we are compelled to be the guardian over other relationships, as well.
In 2009, my parents were getting divorced and I immediately resorted to my oldest child savior mode. I was going to fix this problem through logic, emotional ploys, good listening skills, and pleading. I just knew in my heart of hearts, that I could fix this damage, that I could mend my parent’s relationship and bring my family back together. It was my duty, my calling, I was unflinching, and, man, was I ever sinking deeper and deeper into despair.
One day, I was at work, and I was in complete and utter turmoil. Every second was a battle to hold back tears and keep my composure. This is not a good state to be in when you are a counselor to victims of domestic and sexual violence, but I was fooling myself into thinking I could hold it all together. I was just so stricken with sadness at my inability to fix the problem and the realization that my family would never be the same. It was a hard place to be. As I was sitting at my desk completely miserable a knock came at my door. It was a dear co-worker of mine, who I love and respect deeply. She asked if she could come in and I said, “Sure.” Alma is like a wise fairy godmother. She is very attuned to people and their emotions. She must have sensed something in me. She came and sat down on my “counseling” couch and said, “Tell me what’s going on.”
From there we entered into an hour-long discussion about all that was troubling me. Being the wiser, older woman, she called me out on a couple of things a few times and I tried to argue, but she always gently showed me where I was wrong in my thinking. You know that scene in “Good Will Hunting” where Robin William’s character keeps telling Matt Damon’s character that “it’s not your fault”? Well, that’s EXACTLY how the end of our conversation went. Alma said to me, “You know that you can’t fix this?”
I flippantly said, “Oh, yeah, I know.” But, I didn’t really believe that. I was still confident that this issue was not above my skills.
She said again, “You know that you can’t fix this.”
I again answered with downcast eyes, “I know.”
“No, do you understand that this isn’t yours to fix?” she asked.
The floodgates opened and I started crying uncontrollably and asked her, “Then who is? Who’s going to fix this?” And Alma got up from the couch, walked over to me, placed her hand right on my heart, and the other hand on my head, and she said, “I’m going to pray for you.”
Her touch rocked me to my core, I let loose all my pent-up frustration and hurt and cried as never before. And as I listened to her pray over me, I suddenly felt this warmth start at the top of my head and it flowed, like water would, down over my insides. It went from the top of my head to my feet and right around my heart where her hand was, it felt hot–not painful, but very warm. And I knew, knew, at that moment that Jesus was there with me. He was telling me to give this to Him, to let Him take this pain. I felt such calmness and I knew that everything was going to be okay. When Alma was done praying for me, she looked at me and said, “You let Jesus handle this.” And I didn’t argue, or debate, I just nodded “yes.” We hugged and she left my office.
Afterward, I was talking with another co-worker, Shawn, and I was explaining to her this warmth that had come over me while Alma was praying for me and I asked her what that was. “That was the Holy Spirit, girl,” she said with a smile. I don’t write this to shame or embarrass my parents. They are both wonderful people that I love and adore. I hope they forgive me for baring my soul on this issue to everyone, but I needed to share it. We hear so often in our fallen world that there are no miracles anymore, but Alma’s touch was indeed a miracle in my life. That gift of the Holy Spirit transmitted through her, helped ease my soul. After that day, things slowly got better. That miracle of her touch allowed me to turn off my oldest child savior mode and give the burden to the one true Savior. It has made all the difference.
